


The Wolf and the Pearl

by DovaBunny



Series: Fenders Ficlets [18]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anders is a fan, Angst with a Happy Ending, F!Anders, F/M, Fen has a big dong but stupid tevinter thinks its a sign of primitive idiots, Fenders, Flashbacks, Leto is a sweet shy boy, NOT A DARKFIC, No graphic abuse or slavery, Ref to body slaves, Strangers to shy admirers to friends, Tevinter inspired by ancient rome, To lovers? :3 maybe, Written late at night in quarantine, no beta we die like men, set in Tevinter, they are wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovaBunny/pseuds/DovaBunny
Summary: In Minrathous walked a Magister whose name were on everyone's lips and on every guest list. However, it wasn't the man alone people were curious about, oh no... It was said that Magister Danarius went nowhere without his right and left hand - his Wolf and his Pearl.Or: that AU where Anders is a girl who was sold into slavery instead of handed over to the templars because her family needed the money and she goes to Tevinter and later meets Leto turned Fenris. That AU.Written with the brilliant mind ofMago-Emplumado! Seriously y'all don't know how creative she is.
Relationships: Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age)
Series: Fenders Ficlets [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/791358
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	The Wolf and the Pearl

**Author's Note:**

> The first and then each second section (so odd sections) is what is currently happening. The sections in between are flashbacks. 
> 
> [Really this was just an AU Mago and I was bouncing around and I wrote it into some string of coherence. ]

“Magister Danarius of Minrathous!”

The man’s name was announced, just like the arrival of every magister and high-ranked Altus before him, but this time there was a notable hush and excited murmur settling over the packed hall. Conversations halt and eyes turn towards the huge ornate doors in expectation.

The doors swung open to a smug, confident Magister in extravagant robes. It is a scene by itself, of course, but it wasn’t the man himself that had people bow respectfully when he glances at them, or hurriedly get out of the way as he approaches… it was his right and left hand. His wolf and his pearl.

________________________

14 Years Ago

Small hands and narrow wrists are forcefully grabbed by dirty strong hands and snapped into heavy shackles. She screams and sobs for her mama, her papa, even her older brothers who were told not to leave the house! Her mother is on her knees, hiding her face in her skirts. If she is crying or praying the sound is lost in the heavy rain. She tries to push away the hard hands, wanting to run to her ma, but there’s a cruel grip in her long copper blond hair that ignores her cries of pain and heartbreak as it shoves her into the caged carriage.

Inside are other children. All shackled. All elven, unlike her.

She turns back to the farmhouse, to her parents, to everything she knew and loved. A man in fancy robes, expensive boots and jewellery approach her father and hands him a coin purse. Her father hangs his head but takes it.

Her mother’s wails reach her then as she gets up from the mud and runs into the house.

For a moment she thinks she glimpses her brothers’ concerned faces in the window.

She slams her small fists against the rusted bars of the cage till they are bloody, calling out between sobs for her mama and papa. She pleas and begs, but to no avail.

When her magic manifested her older brothers had fearfully told her that her father would send for the templars to come get her, right before her father threw her into the basement and locked the hatch. But these were no templars, and templars didn’t pay the families they took magic-tainted children from.

She had known that the farm was struggling, even though she was still little. But she never thought…

The carriage pulls away not caring of hear heartbroken wails. Her father doesn’t even look up as he turns back to the house. One of the other shackled children try to comfort her but there is no cure or care that can ease the pain she feels.

By the time the great gates of the Tevinter-Anderfels border appear she has no more tears to cry for the family who sold her into slavery.

________________________

To Danarius’ right is his wolf – his bodyguard and protector, his show of strength. To his left is his pearl – his healer and mage, his show of refined wealth, class, and status. The two are contrasts but eerily synchronised. His wolf is adorned in steel, black leather, silverite, and sharp edges. His emerald gaze is piercing and perceptive, and his figure is imposing and intimidating. His pearl is draped in the finest white silks, gold and gems to compliment her perfectly smooth pale skin and soft curves. As she walks the silks move with her like a flowing mist to reveal just enough of her figure, while her jewellery softly chimes an otherworldly tune. Her dark honey gaze is seductive but submissive, challenging yet coy, and along with her soft flowing copper golden locks, she is completely entrancing.

________________________

“Anders, you don’t know how lucky you are, you ungrateful brat.”

She paced the small cell, fuming. ‘Lucky’? ‘LUCKY’!? Lucky to be sold by her family into slavery, not knowing what would become of her? Lucky to have her name stripped from her because they didn’t like it, instead calling her ‘the Anders girl’? Lucky to be locked in solitary, AGAIN, for not wanting to learn how to suck a man’s cock!?

Fine, sure, they didn’t have to ‘practice’ it, but they had to know ‘how’ theoretically. And some of the previous times she was locked in here is because she was caught healing her friends of injuries or marks they shouldn’t have had in the first place.

She had been too numb to be terrified the day she arrived in Tevinter and was herded onto the slave blocks with the other kids. Her calm demeanour, exotic looks, that she was a human mage with talents in creation magic drew the attention of many potential buyers, but they were outbid by her Mistress – Petronella.

Mistress Petronella had an academy which bought promising young boys and girls and trained them for years, before reselling them at the age of 15 for extraordinary prices. Her graduates were highly regarded and sought-after for their skills, beauty, exclusivity, perfection and sexual purity, but it was just as hard not being expelled and sold to a brothel – effectively stripping you of the status and deeming you too low to even be sold at the slave auctions. 

Anders was taught by the finest healers in both spirit healing (which was her primary talent, a very rare one, much to the delight of her Mistress) and non-magical healing. Along with the other boys and girls, they were taught languages, literature, culture, music, art, dance, and singing. They were also taught how to be submissive, how to obey, how to toe the line, how to seduce and tease without promising anything, how to be a body slave, how to massage and bathe, how to pour wine and ‘make a man come in his pants without even touching him’. The last one she whispered to her classmate. For their giggles they were punished to transcribing under the library headmaster for three weeks every night.

She often ended up in solitary, but they were getting less and less with time. Just two weeks ago her best friend had been sold to a brothel. Partly because she and he had been caught making out, and partly to punish her even more. She was very valuable to Petronella, who only saw bags of coin when she looked at her charges, but even that had its limits. She never cried since setting foot on Tevinter soil, and she wasn’t going to start now. But fear was something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

It was something she was starting to feel now.

In just two years and three months and twelve days she will be 15 and headed back to the slave blocks. She just needed to make it to then.

________________________

Flanked by his wolf and his pearl – his strength and his beauty – Danarius basks in the attention and awe as he struts into the hall full of who’s-who’s of Minrathous. The host, an esteemed Magister called Marinus, gave him a slight bow of welcome and gestured for Danarius to join him and his associates where they lounged on luxurious pillows and reclined sofas, surrounded by scantily clothed slaves holding food and drink. Naturally the man accepted this most gracious (expected) offer and joined them.

“Have you heard,” one man said leaning a little too closely to Danarius causing Fenris to buff his chest and take a slight step between the two, “those two little up-start magisterium-hopefuls you warned would cause trouble? Caused trouble.”

Danarius scoffed, “of course they did.” He lifted an eyebrow to his Pearl who quickly but gracefully moved to take a goblet of wine from one of the serving slaves, taste it, then held it out for Danarius to take. Danarius took the goblet and saw the eyes around him peering at his gem. “A fine specimen, isn’t she?” he proudly said.

There were murmurs of agreement, leering eyes raking over her barely decent yet revealing figure draped in the silks. “Might I ask, is it true that you haven’t…shall we say… tasted of this fine exotic delight of yours? I understand Petronella sold her for a near fortune, but her graduates never stay untouched long after being bought, and they are exceptionally trained to… _please._ ”

Danarius glared at the man and took a slow drink. He held his hand up to Anders who bent down to kiss his knuckles, her kohl-lined eyes of molten honey smouldering at him with a look of adoration and devotion. Danarius smirked, his Pearl wants him so badly. He took his hand and ran his fingers up her thigh through the slits of the silk that reveal her milky skin as she moved. “Hmmm, it is true. However, I find her purity and wholeness adds to her beauty and value. My Pearl is as unblemished as she is talented. Although she is quite the temptation.”

He turned and sneered at the lustful looks at his Pearl. He cleared his throat. “So what did those two idiots do?”

The man turned back to Danarius and felt a little cowed at his dark glare. It was no secret the Magister was very possessive of his pets. “Oh, you’ll love this!” he says, hoping to win back the powerful man’s good graces. “They have been spreading rumours that you are not as powerful as you say you are, and that your Fenris and Pearl as little more than average slaves you dressed up for show. Can you believe?”

Those around them cursed at the foolish thought but carefully watched Danarius who looked thoughtful. He wasn’t one to take a slight lightly. Especially not an insult to his station and power. He lifted his steely grey eyes to Fenris then Pearl, a silent instruction passing between them.

Fenris nodded his head. “I will make it slow and painful, Master.”

“That’s my good pets.”

________________________

The man’s name was ‘Danarius’ – her new Master. She had no way of comparing, but she was told the turnout for her auction was quite the event. She mused that it was the closest to a birthday party she was ever going to get. The man looked creepy and dangerous, but she kept to her training, smiling coyly, submissively, and kneeling to kiss his feet.

He grinned in approval and named her ‘Pearl’. She is to be his gem, his perfectly pure show of wealth and fortune. However, it was, surprisingly, her healing skills he was just as interested in. He told her he had an ‘upcoming project’ she would have to assist with. Failure was not an option, he informed her.

This ‘project’ had them oversee gladiator games over a couple of days, young men and boys all competing in hand-to-hand combat for some prize Danarius will bestow on the champion. She was never instructed to heal the losers, only the winners, before the next rounds till only five remained in the final match. Many losers lost their lives in the ring. No one seemed to care.

There was one boy, ‘Leto’, who had caught her eye. He was brave, fierce, and passionate, and a stand-out amongst the others despite being younger than most and an elf. He was very tall for an elf, however, with lithe but powerful movements and fiery emerald eyes. Danarius tilted his head and watched Leto with a curious glaze, and Anders hoped the boy would win and come work for Danarius too. She didn’t want to see him leave injured and she really, really wanted to get to know him better.

As she healed him before the final match, he smiled at her shyly and thanked her, causing her heart to actually skip a beat. Something she thought was made up by bad romance writers. She had been so used to leers, lustful looks, bedroom eyes, and suggestive comments that a blush, a soft thank-you, and shy smile threw her completely. She had previously overheard him tell one of the other boys that he would use his boon to free his family.

Without a second thought she slipped a rejuvenation spell and stamina boost into him as they walked into the ring for the last game. She couldn’t help the way her heart beat faster when he appeared to be cornered, or how her chest swelled with relief and pride when he emerged victorious.

________________________

Danarius’ Pearl made her way through the crow, drawing eyes with her every calculated move while Fenris disappeared. She let her eyes settle on two men seated amongst body slaves and women who look like they might’ve been paid to be here. The two looked up when they felt her gaze on them and ignored the touches and giggles of those vying for their attention around them. Anders stopped a few feet away, her look coy and teasing, but seductive and determined. “My lords…” she greeted in a low sultry voice. “Am I interrupting?”

The two rose simultaneously, nearly elbowing a woman who was too busy glaring disdainfully at Anders. “If it isn’t Danarius’ prized darling. What can we do for you, my beauty?” the taller of the two spoke as he reached out to kiss her hand.

She pulled it back after his wet lips left her knuckles and giggled, forcing a little blush. “You flatter me, my lord. I was wondering if you might wish to join me in my chambers for a while? This party is awfully dull”

The shorter man’s eyes went wide. “But…what of Danarius?”

Anders gave a little playful pout. “Master is too busy with his Magister friends to even notice I left. He is so obsessed with keeping his Pearl untouched and he doesn’t understand that a girl has… _needs_.” She let her voice drop on the last word, making the invitation clear.

The two idiots fell over their feet to follow her as she giggled and danced just out of their hands, leading them towards the stairs that would take them to the guest wing.

________________________

Anders sniffed and hastily rubbed at her eyes with her forearm, not stopping the flow of magic.

The boy had been on the edge of the void for hours now, she could feel demons of despair threatening the spirits that were helping her pull him back from the clutches of death. Tears blurred her eyes again so she closed them to focus. They were both just kids, neither of them 16 yet, and here she held both their lives in her hand.

His body was rejecting the lyrium – how could any body not? – and it was killing him. She pushed herself harder than she ever has, fighting to contain and close off the brands of molten lyrium now embedded in his flesh. At least his screaming and begging has stopped, but his silence rang so much louder.

“Stay with me, okay?” she said, her voice so hoarse and desperate she barely recognised it. “You need to fight this and stay with me! You’re strong and brave! You can do this! Please!” his heartbeat started stuttering and she pulsed gentle lightning into it to keeping it going.

_“Please, Leto! Stay with me! PLEASE!”_

________________________

The two bumbling drunkards stumbled into the room after her. She turned towards them, eyes having lost all playfulness, and a heartbeat later the door slammed shut behind their heels, revealing the tall murderous warrior where he had waited. It was all too easy for Anders to lure them into her wolf’s trap.

Anders and Fenris’ eyes met, and before the men between them could so much as squeak Fenris had his hand around one heart in a crushing grip, and Anders shot a powerful single bolt of lightning right into the other man’s chest. They dropped, all while Fenris and Anders’ eyes held – burning emerald into molten honey.

“You are a temptress with no rival, mi Amata,” Fenris growled as a sly smile pulled into his cheeks to reveal the subtle dimples only she knew existed, and he stepped over the bodies with little thought. “Desire demons everywhere shudder in their jealously.” He dropped his sword with a soft thud onto the thick carpet, his gauntlets and heavy breastplate following soon after.

“Hmm,” Anders smirked. “If my alure is as powerful as you say, my love, then how is it you’re still laced up?” She lifted an eyebrow and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. She leaned back for the draped silk of her dress to reveal milky thighs, a long pale throat, a tempting cleavage down to the gold and red of her ruby belly-ring.

Fenris groaned and was on her in a flash, capturing those laughing lips with his own. Fenris’ kisses always did burn with the same intensity and passion he fought with but were somehow more tender and sweeter than anyone would ever think the warrior capable of. Anders all but purred with the knowledge that only she knew this side of her elf, parting her lips to a questioning tongue.

________________________

“You have done well, my Pearl,” Danarius praised. Before him Anders and Leto- no, not Leto, not anymore, ‘Fenris’, kneeled. “Our wolf is most magnificent, isn’t he? It seems the boasts from your former Mistress about your healing talents weren’t empty after all. Good.”

“Thank you, Master,” she replied. Her head bowed and palms on her bent knees in a mirror of Fenris’ position next to her.

Danarius hummed approvingly and approached them. They kept still – like Anders told Fenris he should – and allowed Danarius to caress, touch, look, and poke all he wanted. He instructed them, in turn, to stand and move in different positions before stepping back, seemingly happy with some conclusion he had come to.

“Fenris, Pearl, you two shall from now be given the highest rank of any slave in my estate. You shall be at my call day and night without hesitation or fault, unless I have given you leave to train, rest, or attend to other duties. Furthermore, unless given permission to part, you shall remain together and learn to be a perfect mirror of the other. Failure will be punished, and as you two are now my left and right hands – my healer and my protector – you will share meals, a sleeping pallet, and punishments. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” they responded in perfect, eery unison for the first time.

________________________

Anders’ free laughter at Fenris’ ticking, teasing fingers cleverly reaching for all the right clasps, caught in her throat as he bit down on her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access, moaning as he kissed, tasted, bit, and marked down her pale neck to her shoulder. But just as he moved to pull her dress, now loose, aside, she grinned and pushed him back till he was standing and dropped to her knees, the dress falling to the floor in a pool of ivory around her.

She kept her eyes on him – seductive and dangerous, but also so full of adoration and care – as she pushed up his tunic and unlaced his leggings to free his cock which was already half-hard at seeing her naked at his feet, his marks on that perfect unblemished skin. A soft look of deep adoration and devotion graced his handsome face. It was real, sincere. She had been taught the art of lying, both verbally and non-verbally, and a benefit of that was that she could immediately tell whether someone’s spoken or unspoken words were honest. In this private moment, just the two of them, there were no lies and no deceptions. She only wished he would see the same looking into her eyes.

She took him in hand and placed a soft kiss on the head of his cock. She closed her eyes and let her tongue slowly caress him, over his balls up over the filling, hardening shaft, and over the swollen head to taste him. Above her he groaned and his hand carded through her soft long hair to grip at the back and hold her. She gave a little smile before taking him into her mouth with an eager hunger for him.

________________________

Fenris was quiet and withdrawn as they readied for sleep. More so than usual. Danarius had a body slave, a gift from an Altus hoping to win the magister’s favour, in his rooms and excused them for the night.

Anders sighed as she went through the same practiced motions of washing up and putting on her night shirt. What Master had said hit Fenris harder than she thought. As slaves you get used to punishment, disapproval, and critique. But _disgust_ from your master? That is understandably hard.

On a slave’s 17th birthday they are to be officially documented and registered as an adult slave by your owner. Anders was never sure what happened to those who weren’t fortunate enough to have an owner or master, just that it was undesirable. Part of this process was to officially determine a slave’s worth

Master had taken Fenris and her to be registered, which included a full physical examination to determine health. When Anders and Fenris had removed their clothes as instructed the official and his assistant shared a look and snickered. When Danarius prompted them on what’s so funny, the assistant foolishly joked about having to Fenris’ intelligence score clearly being incorrect with a penis that huge.

It was an ancient, foolish, and ignorant belief to soothe the egos of those with fat coin purses and tiny dicks, if you ask her. She was pretty young when she left the Anderfels, but not in her memory or in her studies had she come across this stupid notion in any other culture or part of the world.

In Tevinter a large cock was seen as barbaric and primitive, a signifier of a unintelligent, animalistic man and therefore very looked down upon. Something Fenris was only learning now and taking the full brunt of. Danarius’ disgusted sneer elicited a wince the young warrior couldn’t hide, along with the insulting giggles of the pretty assistant before the official shut her up and apologised to Danarius.

For her, however, it only added to the pride, beauty, and strength she saw in her fellow slave. Her Fenris had a quick wit, a keen strategic mind, and an intelligence to rival many magisters. She had secretly taught him to read and he took to it like a fish to water. Trainers were constantly astonished how quickly he picked up new techniques, having mastered, in addition to his greatsword, various one- and two-handed weapons. He read people like she could read an injury, knowing what to expect before it was expected of them to react.

So no, she didn’t look down upon Fenris’ ample manhood, quite on the contrary. In fact, she was barely able to fight down a flush as her heartbeat raced when she dared to look.

And as he silently crawled into their shared sleeping pallet, curled away from her with his ears low, she swears to prove to him how beautiful, wonderful, and amazing he is. Maybe, just maybe she might even be able to finally tell him how she feels.

________________________

Fenris bit down on her shoulder with a deep rumbling groan she felt in her core, eliciting another cry she had to clamp down on by biting her lip, both in an effort to keep quiet. He thrust up into her, pumping his heavy, hard cock at a pace that was the perfect balance of brutal and loving that they both wanted and needed. The huge bed with its opulent silks and velvets a mess underneath them, the cooling bodies by the door not even a thought as they make the most of the window of time they had. Moments like these were rare, but she lived for them.

His hands grasped possessively, and held her fiercely to him like he wanted to meld himself to her. She had no way of comparing in personal experience, but from the books she’s read and the accounts she’s heard, good sex was either was fucking or love-making. She would bet what they had was both. He knew just where bite – below her ear, the side of her neck, her shoulders, where to suck – her chest, her sensitive breasts, her throat. He knew how hard and at what angle to pound into her to make her see the Maker, to feel the fullness of him stretch her and drag deliciously against her inner walls before slamming into the most hidden, incredible spot deep in her.

“ _Fuck!_ Fen, Love _– ah! Yes! – Ma-ker!_ ” she cried, muffled into his shoulder. “So close- so! _Oh! Fuck!”_ her entire body and the bed shook with each powerful yet measured slam of his hips while she clawed at his back and clung to his powerful frame moving over hers. His own breath rough and heavy on her throat, a low growl taking on a keen letter her know he is close. “ _Yes! Oh Pl-Please! More! Give it to me- give me everything – every drop! I need it, Love!”_ She clamped down on him and rocked her hips up to meet his as well as she could keep up, her sensitive clit rubbing against him in the most exquisite way.

Fenris’ hips stuttered out of rhythm before he slammed into her one last time, his heavy full cock spasming inside her as he shot his seed so hard she could feel every pulse. Lost in the sensation – and having held onto the brink for some time – she has to cover her mouth to muffle the cry of Fenris’ name as she falls into the blissful abyss right after him, safely held in his protective, strong arms knowing he will always catch her.

________________________

Danarius had just started to wonder what was taking them so long when he two familiar figures appeared at his sides. He turned to them with a grin. “It is done?”

“As you wished, Master,” they replied in unison.

“Good,” the magister replied before standing to stretch his limbs. “Now come, I wish to see the gardens.”

Some of the other magisters rose and fell in step next to him as the party moved towards one of the many wide double-doors that lead to the beautiful gardens Magister Marinus so prided himself on. Fenris and Anders took a step back to allow their Master to be flanked by two men he was conversing with but trailed close behind.

Heads held high, back straight, regal and silent, the two followed. Not a blemish on her skin, not a hair out of place. Not drop of blood on his armour, not a hint of a flush. Soon servants will discover the two bodies of the men where they have been positioned in a rather disgraceful manner on the bed before having had some strategic bones snapped and cuts made to make it look like their death had been the long, drawn-out, horrifying experience that Danarius wanted.

No one would ever know.

Bites and bruises could be healed, messes wiped clean, hair expertly fixed. It was their secret, their secret freedom they cherished and protected with their lives.

So let Danarius believe that his pets are loyal to a fault, that his wolf’s obedience and honour is unwavering, that his pearl’s purity and beauty is untouched and unblemished. Let Danarius think he owns their minds and bodies and hearts.

Because the truth was their minds were not as chained as he thought, their bodies they had shared with one another too many times to count, and their hearts belonged to none other than their other half.

May he never know his healer healed more than Leto’s brands, but his soul too. May he never see the hidden paw prints all over his perfectly pure pearl, left by his perfectly trained wolf.


End file.
